


Team Stiles

by HolyGuacomole



Series: I Choose You! [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Crying Stiles, Except When It Doesn't, F/M, Fluffy, Gen, OHMYGAWD THAT IS AN ACTUAL TAG, Pre-Season/Series 01, Save For the Fact Pokemon Exsist, cuddly, everything is still canon, makes you feel warm inside, now i feel sadder inside, sorry-that was a bit dramatic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:05:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyGuacomole/pseuds/HolyGuacomole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I AM SORRY I TOOK AN UNEXPECTED HIATUS-AND THAT THIS NOTICE IS SO LATE-BUT MY LIST OF WHO HAS WHAT POKEMON, AS WELL AS THE REASONING BEHIND THEM, HAS BEEN LOST. I AM GOING TO REVAMP THE LIST, AND GET BACK TO THIS STORY AS SOON AS MY INTERNSHIP IS FINISHED! Memories and moments between Stiles and his Pokemon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slakoth

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly diverges in AU for the Pokemon canon, because there won't be anyone trying to be Pokemon masters/trainers, 'cause they can't travel. They are NEEDED at Beacon Hills for Teen Wolf canon story-line to continue.  
> So once a child reaches the age of 10, they can begin catching and battling Pokemon (with supervision) wherever they may live or travel as long as the children or Pokemon aren't harmed. Pokemon are essentially pets to those who choose not to follow and work toward the career of being a Pokemon Master.

"I'm not sleepy!"

Mr. Stilinski huffed in amusement as his son moaned petulantly from the living room floor, and rolled around, waving his arms uselessly. It was a blatant lie, but he wouldn't refute it. _Pick you battles, and all that jazz._ The Sheriff glanced up towards the Slakoth lounging on the maroon sofa, and he swore it winked conspiratorially at him, before ever so slowly touching his hand to Stiles head, whispering, "Kooooth."

The energetic child lifted his head to see what his pokemon wanted, before getting lost it's drowsy gaze. John had to shake himself after only a few seconds of looking, he couldn't begin to imagine what the lingering stare felt like to his kid's eyes. Within moments, Stiles was slumping to the carpet, noodle arms and legs spread eagle. The Sheriff watched in fascination as the Slakoth attempted a graceful crawl off the cushion, but only managed in falling awkwardly all over his trainer. Though, unsurprisingly, the impact did not awake his son, nor did it stop the pokemon from joining him in slumber-land. John didn't know whether to laugh at their position, or cringe at the future pain both will wake up in.

"Is the Menace finally asleep?"

The blond father turned with a smile, and greeted his wife with a soft kiss to the cheek, than wrapped both arms around her waist. Her Nidorina was snuggled firmly between their embrace and seemed content to stay that way. "Yes. And I thank God everyday that Slakoth got in the way of that Squirtle he was trying to catch."

His wife scrunched up her slightly upturned nose, and giggled quietly. Stiles has the same nose. He thanks God for that too. It's a good nose. 

"You know, that Slakoth will eventually evolve into a Vigoroth?"

John groaned pitifully, and leaned to nuzzle against the neck of his one and only, "Why must you crush my ideals of a quiet and restful future?"

Mrs. Stilinski laughed loudly this time, confident in their son's Slakoth's drowsy powers. Both remained captive to their dreams. While they watched the young ones nap, Nidorina became impatient with the lack of movement, so she skillfully wiggled out from between the pair and dashed to the screen door, scratching lightly. The sun hadn't set yet so she probably wanted to graze in the backyard. There really wasn't a fence seperating the house from the forest, so one of the parents usually had to escort their pokemon and child whenever they wished to play outside. The couple treaded carefully around Stiles and Slakoth, before opening the door, and stepping onto the porch. Nidorina rumbled happily, than barreled to the grass, racing around for a few moments before looking expectantly at her trainer. Felicja reached for another pokeball, as well as John. Nidorina didn't want to play alone.

The Sheriff released his Armaldo, and his wife released her Petilil, seeing as both needed a good dose of sunlight and a chance to feel the earth. As the pokemon played, John and Felicja reclined to the matching patio chairs, where they too fell asleep to the glorious sounds of a happy home. All was well in the Stilinski house, and nothing could be sweeter.


	2. Cubone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for what I am about to write.

It hurt a lot.

It hurt so bad.

Really bad.

Stiles couldn't really describe it any other way. He never felt this kind of pain before. It didn't hurt like a stubbed toe, or a broken wrist. His dad said it hurt worse than his old bullet wound. So, if you had to ask, this was the kind of pain that had no words. A pain so terrible, it didn't deserve words. It makes you cold and hot, angry and confused. Everything is wet, but it's pretty dry too. Doesn't that sound like it would hurt? Your whole body is confused because your brain doesn't want the pain, but it's the only reaction that makes sense.

His dad hasn't been able to look at his face without breaking down. It's been a week. Tall people are all standing around them, saying stuff to the Sheriff, patting his shoulder. Stiles thinks Scott was by his side for the sermon, but no one's face is really registering. They're outside now, and the sun is really bright. The 12 year old can't stand how bright it is, so he's been keeping his brown eyes firmly on the ground. Away from his father's blue ones. He doesn't want to make him hurt even more. 

_Does he blame me?_

Before more thoughts that were alike in darkness, a firm squeeze to his arm shook him from them, but he still remebered to keep his face firmly fixed in the ground's direction. "I'm going to the reception hall to say goodbye to your grandparents, alright?"

_Mom would know._

"Son?"

With a tight jerk of his head, Stiles let his dad go. At his departure, the rest of the black-clothed crowd left the grave site. Some attempted to nudge the silent child inside as well, but they were unimportant to his single minded focus. Finally, Stiles could raise his head, but what came into view was an unwelcome sight indeed. 

His mother's headstone. Simple words in a graceful text. **Felicja Stilinski, Beloved Mother and Wife, Fate Loved Her Just as Much**

 _NO!_ Stiles collapsed to the damp grass and slapped his hands against the granite memorial. _No! NO! No no no no no no no no no no-  
!_

**"NOT ENOUGH!"**

Enough what? Words? People? Emotion?

"Time." the child whispered into the warm air of summer. And once the word escaped, so did the tears. Stiles screamed terribly into the bright day, ripping the grass, ripping the flowers from his aunt, as salty tracks flowed down his red face. Hiccups, whimpers, and wails filled the silent graveyard, and the mourners no doubt could hear every single cry he released. Drool and snot joined the tears pouring onto his white dress shirt, but he didn't care. He didn't like the shirt. He hated the shirt. It was too hot, and the cloth was stuffy, and-and...

Stiles didn't know how much time had passed since he started letting everything out, but it must've been some time, because he didn't hear the responding cries till he ceased screaming. The Sheriff's boy didn't think his throat could produce anything else, so where were those noises coming from. Very slowly, from his crouched position, Stiles turned to see who his fellow griever could be, and was only a little surprised.

A Cubone sat just two feet away, clutching it's weapon, and gasping for the breath it was losing in an attempt to match the human. With a hesitant hand, Stiles reached out to pet the pokemon's head, but was unexpectedly ambushed with a hug! The Cubone clung desperately to the boy, and for a moment, he couldn't fathom why the bone-headed creature would cry for him, until clarity hit. _Of course._ The Cubone understood the indescribable pain. The clench in their guts; the heaviness of their heads. It was nearly the same.

With a chocked sob, Stiles returned the embrace with the same (if not more) strength, but that was okay. After all-

Losing a mother hurt a lot. 

It hurt so bad.

_Mommy. It hurts really bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had to be written.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like it! Please tell me what you think?  
> by the by  
> FELICJA: Feminine form of Polish Felicjan, meaning "happy" or "lucky."  
> I choose everyone's pokemon with great care, so if you have questions about them, feel free to ask.


End file.
